


Too Tender to Speak Aloud

by MistyRay00



Category: Lost in Space (TV 2018)
Genre: Debbie has a cameo, Don is a softie, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Porn, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Music, Mutual Pining, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-25 04:34:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16190180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyRay00/pseuds/MistyRay00
Summary: His presence aboard wasn’t unwelcome to her, but sometimes, she felt an emotion tugging at the edges of her that she was smart enough to recognize but stubborn enough to ignore. To want to push away.But now, taking in his distressed form and face twisted in whatever nightmare plagued him, it was far more challenging to avoid that she cared.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Boy oh boy did I not expect this ship. I was just casually watching Lost in Space, and I fell in love with them. I had to write something because this fandom has some great fics, but we need more! 
> 
> This story does eventually get smutty, but the first half is just mutual pining fluff, so feel free to read that and scoot if smut isn't your cup of tea.
> 
> That being said, there are some points about the layout of the ship that I'm not entirely sure are accurate, bear with me.

It had been interesting, having two new passengers, or really, residents on the Robinson’s Jupiter. One stayed in her cell most of the time to the unanimous glee of everyone else aboard.

But the other new member of the ship was something else entirely.

Don fit right into the Robinson’s flow of things, but certainly added his own flavor to the mix. It was hectic, sometimes, what happened when Maureen’s knowledge of exactly how everything should go met Don’s knowing of exactly how everything can go wrong in regard to the ship. There were some heated debates about the ship’s capacity and how to fix certain damages.

And John would never let on how entertaining it was to watch. He enjoyed having the extra help when he needed it, although he could expect a fair amount of comedic complaining from the younger man.

The evenings were usually filled with card games, and Don would tell stories of his insane and most likely exaggerated adventures over supper, which Will was delighted to hear. Penny too welcomed the lightened mood, happily giving her snarky but smiling two cents on what she thought of Don’s tales. Maureen smiled quietly, only speaking up if he was about to utter some non-PG vocabulary onto the scene.

And then there was Judy.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like him being around; she welcomed him just as everyone else did. Most of the time, she joined in all the comfortable chaos that was the new normal.

But then sometimes, she suddenly didn’t. She was just a bit...distant.

“Don’t take it personally,” Will explained to a confused Don after Judy abruptly stalked out of the room saying something about “actually getting something done around here.”

“That’s just cuddly Judy for you,” Penny concluded, emptying the rest of a water bottle into her mouth.

*******

Judy’s room on the ship was closest to one of the entrance hatches to the engine room.

And if it weren’t for her proximity to the engine room and the fact she was still awake reading, she wouldn’t have caught the sound.

At first, she thought she might be hearing something, but then as she concentrated, she could distinctly make out, “No. No. No! No! NO!” Although still faint, it was enough to get her out of bed, hastily slipping down the hall in her lined, soft socks.

It didn’t take long to determine the sound coming from the engine room where she found Don, asleep, sitting on a crate, various tools scattered at his feet. His head was leaning against some sort of piping, thrashing violently in before another chorus of “No!” twisted her stomach into a knot.

His presence aboard wasn’t unwelcome to her, but sometimes, she felt an emotion tugging at the edges of her that she was smart enough to recognize but stubborn enough to ignore. To want to push away.

But now, taking in his distressed form and face twisted in whatever nightmare plagued him, it was far more challenging to avoid that she cared.

She shook him, gripping his upper arm. “Don. Don!” She was whisper shouting, hoping to not wake the others. When he was unresponsive, she used her other hand to shake his opposite shoulder, firmer this time.

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at her, but a with a drowsy, unfocused glace.

“Judy?” he rasped in question.

“Yeah, you, um,” she shifted her stance subtly back from him, “I heard you yelling. Must’ve been a bad dream.”

He nods, taking the information in, running a hand over his face before hunching over, resting his head in his hands. “Sorry I woke you.”

“You didn’t, I was up anyway.” Judy let a moment of silence go by. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“You working on restless minds too now, Doctor Robinson?”  She could see the edge of a sly smile poke out from where his hands still covered his face. “Don’t suppose you have a cure for that one.”

She rolls her eyes. He shifts to lean back on the post, bringing his gaze up to hers.

“Music helps me,” Judy whispers out, shrugging her shoulders in a way she hopes comes off as nonchalant.

His expression turns more serious, concentrated.  “You too, huh?”

She nods. He glances at her in what she knows to be understanding.

“Well. As much as I’d  _ love _ to blast Metallica, the HOA around here is pretty strict on the whole ‘quiet after hours’ thing, so that’s a bust.”

She smiles. “Well, too bad I don’t have earbuds I’d be willing to loan you.”

He returns her smile, a genuine one. “Yeah? What’s your terms?”

“Deal is you actually go up to your real room and real bed and try to get some real sleep after.” she offers her hand down to him.

“Doctor’s orders?” He grasps her hand, pulling himself up.

“Doctor’s orders,” she agrees.

After he’s up and has his balance, his warm hand still grips hers for a second longer than it needs to.

She decides that’s just her imagination.

*********

Two days later Judy’s eyes betray her obvious sleep deprivation.  

Everyone expresses their concern in their own way, to which Judy always responds with firm assurance that she’s absolutely fine. No one is fooled, but everyone knows better than to press.

Don notices too.

He finds her, keeping herself busy with organizing some supplies and doing an inventory count. She’s really far more driven than the task requires, and although Don knows Judy always takes her tasks with a brisk step and a determined brow, he also knows forced busyness when he sees it.

“Monsters under your bed keeping you up, huh, princess?” He said it more as a statement than a question.

“Don’t condescend me,” she replies, terse, not even giving him eye contact as she turns to pick up a box and move it.

“Hey, Judy,” his tone loses the tease and picks up a tenderness that almost makes her stop her task.

He catches an arm of hers, not grabbing, she could pull away if she wanted. She finally gives him eye contact, trying to ignore the goose bumps breaking over her skin where his hand is.  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the lack of some earbuds and therefore your music, would it?”

Her gaze falls to her boots for a short moment. He continues. “Because if it does, I’m going to feel like a very shitty human being. And my conscience doesn’t bother me for much, so that’s saying something.”

“No, I want you to use them,” she responds, no waver in her voice.

“That wasn’t the question.”

She inhales.

“Yep. That settles it. You’re taking them back.”

“No! Look, I can still listen if I want to without them, and I’m sure Penny has an extra pair somewhere anyway. And you need them more than I do.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing without them is obviously not doing the trick, and if anyone had an extra pair, you’d have them already.” Before she has any time to protest, he puts his index finger up, gesturing for her to wait here, pivots, and starts walking out of the storage space. “I’m fixing this now.”

“Don, wait!” He doesn’t stop. “Does it ever occur to you that I might care about you?”

Finally he stops, and she watches his back straighten. “Care that you get decent rest?” she quickly adds.

He only half way turns around and his voice is low when he says, “Does it ever occur to you that the feeling might be mutual?”

She mentally scolds her thumping heart, telling it to give it a rest.

Don knows this isn’t just about the ear buds, but he’s not letting himself dwell on that for a second more.

The soft metallic hum of the ship running is the only sound for what feels like an eternity, both of them frozen in step.

“We can share, then,” Judy breaks the silence. She mentally slaps herself the instant it leaves her lips. Could she be more obvious?

He faces her, hardly believing what he’s hearing, expression unreadable. “You sure, princess?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.” She smiles, softly. “My place or yours?” her eyes twinkle in her own joke while her hand shakes a little at her side.

Don West has the audacity to blush at the innuendo for a single second before wiping it away with an amused smirk. “Mine’s finely decorated with oil-stained tools and yesterday’s jumpsuit to match. Probably not your type of joint.”

“Oil-stained is growing on me,” she whispers, and Don can feel his own pulse in his fingertips. “But mine is fine.”

She turns back around, picks up another box, and says with far more confidence than she feels, “Come when you want, I’ll be up reading.”

He smiles. “Alright.”


	2. Chapter 2

Don makes sure he hears no sign of anyone else being up before he starts down the hall to Judy’s room. He really can’t think which family member would be worst to run into, then he thinks of John. Yeah, John definitely would be the worst.

It wasn’t what it looked like, but Don doubted that would be any reassurance if he were to run into anyone.

Judy quickly opened the door at the sound of his soft rap and ushered him in.

“I feel like I needed the Mission Impossible theme song playing sneaking down that hall. The echo in here is a bitch.”

She rolls her eyes but can’t help the laugh that escapes her.

Judy gets back on the bed, tucking her feet under her Indian style, and leans up against the shelves that line the side of her single bunk.

Don follows, tentatively sitting on the side edge of the bed.

Logically, there’s nowhere else to sit except the bed in the tiny quarters. But it’s still a bed, and both of them know it.

He doesn’t scoot back on the mattress, but he does reach down to take off his boots before lifting a leg up, scooting to his side so he doesn’t have his back to her.

Nothing of theirs is touching except his knee and one of her feet, but they’re close enough the signal will let them both listen.

He holds his hand out to her, and she stares at it, confused.

“Your device, please. I’d like to see what playlist I’m subjecting myself to for the evening.”

The corner of her mouth turns up as she starts rummaging through one of the shelves behind her.  “I thought Van Halen or maybe Led Zepplin would be my verdict for sure.”

Don tilts his head and shrugs his shoulders. “Nah. Your house, your rules, your playlist.”

They both put the earpiece in before he adds, “I draw the line at boy bands, though.”

Judy quirks an eyebrow. “Don’t insult me.”

“Just saying.”

She hands him the device, which he clicks on before handing back to her. “Passcode, please.”

Judy doesn’t take it.

Instead, she says, “One eight five zero three.”  She looks at him, intent.

He seems taken aback at first before punching in the code.

“Thanks,” he says, looking straight at her, eyes perceptive and soft. He needs her to know he understands what she’s saying, that he’s thankful. Again, it’s not about the earbuds.

She just nods.

He looks back down and starts swiping through, looking for a playlist. He smiles as he scrolls past a few. “Although my curiosity is peaked at ‘Party,’ I think ‘Chill’ is probably more appropriate.”

He pushes shuffle, and John Mayer’s voice fills one of both of their ears.

Don purses his bottom lip and nods his approval. “The man has intense guitar skills. Took me months of practice to get some of his riffs down.”

Judy doesn’t conceal the surprised delight on her face. “You play?”

He does the best impression of a bow he can while seated. “Even if I did have enough space to bring one, she would’ve gone down with the ship, so…” he smirks, finally scooting to sit next to Judy with his back against the shelf, but still leaving a good two feet between them.

He rolls his neck, tense from sitting without something to lean on for a while. He keeps dignifying his move closer to her with that, over and over again in his mind.

Judy pretends not to notice his movement, but she can feel her heart pick up pace.  “I wouldn’t have guessed that about you at all, although I suppose it makes sense.”

“Well, if it has to do with my hands, I can usually master it.”

She opens her mouth, cheeks flushing, and lets out a short laugh. “Sorry.”

When he realizes the double meaning she took, he leans his head back, knocking it gently against the shelf. “And I would not have guessed you to have a dirty mind, Judy Robinson, but well,” he rolls his head to look at her for emphasis, “here we are.”

She grasps the pillow from the top of her bed, hurling it quickly in his direction, but not fast enough he couldn’t get his hands up to deflect.

The song changes to Daniel Caesar as Don secures the pillow under his knee furthest from her.

They both lean their heads back against the shelf. Judy can feel the edges of sleep poke at her mind and she closes her eyes.

Eyes still closed, she asks him “Do you sing too?”

He snorts. “I  _ do _ sing, but I’m definitely not someone you want to  _ hear _ singing.”

She grins.

“How about you, princess?”

She quiet for a second.

“Judy?” he asks quietly, wondering if she faded off.

“Sometimes,” she answers.

“I’m gonna need to hear that sometime.”

“We’ll see,” she says, and the song changes again.

******

An abrupt knock startles Judy awake. “Judy!”

A small take in of her surroundings, and Judy suddenly remembers and notices her head resting on Don’s shoulder, who is still seated and sound asleep next to her.

Another knock. “Judy! Earth to Judy! Are you up yet?”

She shakes Don, violently. His eyes blink open, drowsy.

A quick glance at the clock says she has slept in much later than she usually does. Don is normally a late sleeper, so no one will be expecting him for a while, but Judy was normally up and going before everyone else.

Another knock on the door and Don’s eyes shoot open.

“Judy, come on! Breakfast is already over, and I’m not doing cleanup myself.”

Jumping into action, Don scoots up off the bed and slides under the mattress and frame, pressing himself against the far wall, hoping the shadow will conceal him.

Judy throws a blanket over the bed to drape over the side, semi-covering the space between the bed and the floor, hopefully hiding Don before quickly opening the door.

“What?” Judy semi-barks at Penny.

“Good morning to you too,” Penny announces, elbows folded across her chest. “KP duty is  _ ours _ , not  _ mine _ . And although I’m glad you’re getting some sleep finally, I’d also appreciate some team participation at this late hour.”

“Okay, let me get changed, and I’ll be out in five.” Judy said, shifting her weight to cover as much of the door frame as she could.

Penny’s eyes narrow in suspicion. She almost didn’t think anything more of it, until one quick visual sweep of the room behind Judy draw Penny’s attention to a pair of boots.

Her eyebrows raised before her mouth shot straight into a cheshire cat smile. Penny crouched down below Judy’s knees.

“What’re you…”

Before Judy could finish, Penny started.

“And good morning to you too,  _ Don _ .” At least she had the decency to not be loud in saying it, Judy thought.

“Penny.” Don uses two fingers to salute her before worming out from under the bed.

“It’s not what it looks…” Judy starts to explain.

“As saucy as this is, I actually  _ really  _ don’t want to know, thank you.”

“You won’t say anything, will you?” Judy hopes her tone doesn’t sound too desperate.

“And lose all my lovely leverage? You’re not getting off that easily.” Penny assures, lips still quirked up.

“You can start with taking KP yourself this morning.” After a second pointed glance at Don, who is now pulling on his boots, Penny adds, shrugging, “Or maybe, not yourself.”

“Please move on with your day.” Judy pleas, annoyance coming off of her in waves.

“With pleasure,” Penny says. Before walking off, she adds, “The hall down your way looked clear a second ago Don, I’d head for it if I were you, because dad said he was going to look for you to help him with fixing an air duct or something.”

Don groans, before standing and starting toward the door. He shoots a short “thanks” to Penny before she takes off.

“Sorry,” Judy whispers as he scoots past her.

“Don’t be,” he says back, grinning. “Not my first rodeo with unwelcome company and hiding under a bed.”

Judy’s puts her hands on her waist. “Huh. Just how much experience, exactly?”

“Enough to know that I’m in trouble no matter how I answer that question,” he quips, roguish smile accompanying sleep rumpled hair.

Judy has eyes, and she has little to zero doubt he had no problem getting into trouble looking like that.

“I’ll help you with KP after bit,” is the last thing Judy hears before he he rounds the corner.

She smiles to herself.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd here's where the smut comes into play.

They don’t meet every night, but they almost do. Despite the neck cramps from the strange seated sleeping positions, they both get much better rest.

They have, however, adapted a good emergency exit and hiding plan in case they receive any more questioning company.

The days hold a certain level of underlying energy.

He can feel her gaze on his back when he’s working on things at times, and he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk letting her know that he’s caught her.  

She knows she’s caught his eyes lingering a little too long on her too. Not long enough for anyone else to notice, but she does.

They both notice. They both don’t say a thing.

Some nights they talk, some nights they fall asleep almost instantly. Some nights it’s her playlists, sometimes it’s his.

Some mornings, he wakes up with her head on his shoulder and he knows he’s terrified of how intensely his heart clenches.

One morning, she wakes up in his lap instead. Thank God, she could gently get up off his thigh before he stirred. But she didn’t get up before she noticed the natural effect of morning at the apex of his legs. It was difficult  _ not _ to notice.

She’s not proud of the way the image repeats in her mind throughout the day, and she’s even less proud of the way she rubs her legs together when she’s sure she’s alone.

He tells her about his parents, one time, and she has no comprehension at all of how anyone could ever see him for who he is and walk away.

One night, she sings. She doesn’t really even notice she’s doing it, it just happens, softly falling over her lips to the tune of the song. She thinks he’s already passed out, and she’s just about to herself.

The song finishes, and she tilts her head to fall to the side, ready to let slumber take her over before she hears Don murmur, lazily, “Pretty voice, Doc.”

But it’s always her room.

One day, he suggests his room. She tilts her head, trying to comprehend, until she sees Don’s unguarded expression. He quickly covers it with an explanation of, “It’s my turn to host.”

So he does.

 

He took what used to be Doctor Smith’s room, or June, or whatever, when she moved into solitary confinement. 

It’s cluttered, as she imagined, but it’s him, and it feels welcoming in the same way an old pair of jeans does.

His bed is situated a little differently than hers, and the shelf is at the head of he bed, not running along the side.

And of course, Debbie has her bed in the corner, where she happily has already tucked her head into her wing.

After ridding himself of his boots, Don sits on the side of the bed toward the shelf, and Judy sprawls on her stomach out at the bottom, propping herself up on her elbows. The covers smell like him too, and her lower stomach twirls.

They start listening to music, but before long, Judy shifts herself so she’s seated next to him, leaning against the wall, his outer thigh and her outer thigh pressed together in order to fit both of them on the narrow end of the single bunk.

He turns his face to her, and her face is so close he can feel her breath on his jaw. Her hair is down, loose around her shoulders. Her eyes swim with unsaids, and it’s worse than the day she asked him to fly in that tin can with John and “do the right thing.”

And before he can think about it long enough to talk himself out of it, he lifts his hand to her cheek, cupping the side of her face, thumb swiping at her skin. He only registers her inhale before he plants his lips to hers.

It’s only one delayed second before her lips move against his in response and he groans, breaking the kiss suddenly.

“I’m sorry… I, uh…” he runs a hand through his hair, “shouldn’t have done that.”

She’s quiet for a second, assessing. “I would beg to differ.”

He meets her stare.

“This… I don’t want this to mess with what we already have,” he breathes. “Whatever it is.”

“I didn’t think it was that mysterious,” Judy laughed lightly. Then she’s caught off guard by his stoney, tormented expression.

“Judy,” he starts, then closes his eyes. “You mean too much to me to risk over this, okay?”

Her chest is going to combust, she could swear. “What do you mean?”

He lets out a long breath. “I don’t know how to do this. I know hiding under beds and leaving before morning, remember? But you…” he swallows, shakes his head “You are something else. And I don’t want to mess that up.”

The stark contrast of this confession with her confident, teasing Don leaves her stunned. Not that he hadn’t opened up to her, he had. But she could see in the way that it pained him to even speak the words that this was hard for him. But he was trying. He was trying for her.

She puts her hand on his arm, rubbing gently.

“Don, I don’t do this with just anyone. I trust you, okay? I trust you.”

He faces her, he looks like she’s slapped him with her statement.

He nods slowly after a moment.

Then she moves, planting a knee between his so she could bring her mouth to his, kissing deep. He wraps his arms around her waist, ushering her closer. She takes the suggestion, leaning in, swiping her tongue against his bottom lip, which he opens at the prompting.

Heat sweeps through his belly the moment their tongues meet in the kiss, mouths slanting over each other to gain better access.

Judy slips her fingers through his hair, gripping, and he lets out a hum of approval into her mouth.

His hands tighten on her waist, more sure. She fists her hands in his shirt, and she starts leaning back, taking him with her.

He obliges, shifting his weight, but she keeps going back until he’s all but laying on top of her.

Don again breaks the kiss, trying to figure out her plan.

Her eyes are pleading with him, and he goes to kiss the side of her mouth, gently.

She’s trying to catch his mouth again, as he tries to shift so that no weight of his is on her. In his distraction, Judy tugs slightly up on the bottom of his shirt, enough for him to take the hint.

Stopping, Don sits back on his knees. Judy keeps her eyes on him, pushing her back off the bed with her elbows.

“Look, Judy, I want you more than anything else in this universe, but that is not why I asked you here tonight, and I don’t really know exactly where you’re going, but we don’t have to go this fast.”

“I want this,” she’s still catching her breath from kissing, chest rising and falling, and he’s trying to not notice, but not hard enough. “I want you. All of you.”

Silence, only for a moment before he lets out a whoosh of breath. “You sure? Because if you are, I’m not enough of a gentleman to say no to you.”

Judy smiles up at him. “I’m sure, Don, and I’m relying pretty heavily on you not being a gentleman, actually.”

There’s a sound deep in his throat, and she knows she’s got him.

Reaching above his head, he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

Eyes boring into the newly exposed skin heatedly, Judy pushes herself up to meet him.

He’s muscled, she knew that before, but, oh, are knowing and seeing two different experiences.

Various scars dot and slash their way across him, including an especially long one that wraps around his side, disappearing behind his back.

“So the seventy-something stitches and whiskey sanitizer story was actually true,” she states, seemingly noting to herself.

He shrugged. “Probably could’ve used a good doctor. Too bad I didn’t know one yet.”

“I might be able to do something yet,” and then she leans down to him, pressing her mouth to the top most corner of the scar tissue.

He laughs, gravelly, and she watches the muscle tense and his skin break out in goosebumps. “I didn’t know ‘kiss it better’ was a professionally recognized medical treatment.”

“It is now,” she presses her lips against his skin as she trails down, down, planting wet kisses as she goes, following the curve around his side.

He raises his arm when it becomes in her way of following it over to his stomach, eyes soaking her in.

It ends inches above his belt, but she doesn’t stop where the scar does. She kisses right where his belt meets his skin, and all she can hear is his breathing, heavy above her.

Her cheek scrapes against the hardness just below his belt, and she smiles at the slight shift of his hips as she kisses his clothed inner thigh once.

The belt is simple enough, but as her fingers reach to undo it, a large palm covers the back of her hand.

“Judy.” His voice is low in warning. Taking her hand, he pulls her up and against him. “It’s been a while for me. Okay?”

His hands on her lower back dip lower, following the curve of her ass before lifting her. Judy wraps her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. His lips are against hers instantly and she can feel the smile on his lips when he mouths against her, “And I’d rather concentrate on you anyway.”

She savors the friction where her core rubs against his erection on the few steps he takes to the bed, and it’s gone too soon.

He lays her down, and she keeps her legs around him, hoping he comes down with her. Instead, he catches a foot on the ground, keeping himself up. Planting a hand on each of her knees, he pushes them apart, spreading her.

Her eager compliance to him juxtaposes starkly against her normal stubbornness. Don hears her saying “I trust you” again in his head, and he’s almost overwhelmed by how heavily it pulls on his heart.

Leaning over her, he plants a single kiss on her stomach where her shirt has ridden up before starting pulling the drawstring on her sleep pants. She lifts her hips to help him get them down, but he leaves her underwear for the time being.

She pulls her own shirt off, and it catches his attention. A finger of his traces up her side before both of his hands reach between her back and the bed, undoing the clasp of her bra in one go. He cups her breasts the moment the garment is gone, thumbing at her nipples in just the right way, and she hums her approval.

She tilts her head, looking up at him. “So,  _ lots _ of beds that you hid under.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not letting that go, are you?”

“I’m sure if you put your mind to it, you could find a way to distract me.”

His eyes sparkle with mischief before he winks at her, scooting himself lower over her body. “Yes, ma’am.”

He lifts her leg with one of his hands, kissing down it, and he doesn’t stop when he reaches the seam of her panties, kissing up her seam, darting out his tongue against the already damp fabric.

Judy lets out a soft “oh” and bucks her hips against his mouth.

Don uses one hand to still her hips back onto the bed and the other to tug her underwear down her legs, tossing them behind him.

He stops to look at her, reveling in having her like this. She squirms a little under his stare and brings her legs together, instinctively.

His eyes meet hers when he places his hands on her thighs, gently prompting her to spread again. “Keep them open,” he says, simply. Bringing his mouth back down, he kisses wetly on her pubic bone. “Please,” he adds as a second thought.

“Glad to see your manners are still...” He licks up her slit all in one long, wet stroke. She cries out, loudly, and her thighs tremble, locking against his ears.

“Shhhh” he mouths against her. “My manners aren’t gonna mean jack shit if someone hears us.”

She exhales a laugh.

His hands joining his tongue, thumbs spreading her inner lips open, and he licks in to her, nose startlingly close to her clit as his mouth expertly laps at her. The scruff on his cheeks scrapes against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs, and it’s all so, so much.

Don can’t begin to get enough of her taste. He knows she’s getting all over his face, and he couldn’t give less of a fuck. He wants it, even. Let her scent be all over his jaw and lips the same way she’s all over his heart.  

After nudging it with his nose, he laps his tongue over her clit and she rolls off of the bed again, except he doesn’t hold her back down this time, letting her rut back on to him, letting him get deeper.

She’s a new challenge to him. His inner mechanic needs to know all her wires, all her spots, all the things that make her tick, make her moan.

 

He teases a calloused finger against her entrance before pushing in. She whimpers, pulling the pillow at her side to her mouth to muffle herself. And  _ god _ , he knows exactly how to curl that finger. Then he adds another one just as he doubles down on her clit with his tongue. Blinding white flashes across Judy’s vision despite her tightly shut eyes.

She thrashes, and he has to hold down one of her legs to keep his position. Her sounds are muffled by the pillow as she arches, and he knows enough to know the signs, but he doesn’t stop until her hand pushes gently against his head.

He crawls back over her, tucking a flyaway coil of hair behind her ear. She’s still dazed, breathing erratic, but she lifts up enough to kiss him, tasting herself on his lips. He cups the back of her head with his hand, catching strands of her hair in his fingers.

Then she pushes at his chest. Don stops and looks back at her, questioning. “Sit back,” she instructs, kissing his cheek.

He obeys, moving back until he’s sitting at the head of the bed with his legs out in front of him.

Judy’s arms wobble at the elbows as she pushes herself up, crawling over to him, her form strikingly showing itself off, and Don makes no effort to hide his appreciative viewing.

“It’s starting to be a little unfair that our views don’t match.” She makes a short tug at the ankle of his pants to get the point across.

He smiles at her, countenance open. His fingers make quick work of his belt, but her hands stop him from taking them down his legs.  “Let me,” she tells him, returning his smile.

As she pushes the fabric down his legs, still leaving his undershorts, he asks, “When’s the first time you thought about me naked?”

Her cheeks flush, trying not to look at what his skin-tight undershorts hide very little of. “You’re seriously asking me that now?”

He cocks his head. “You’re seriously going to be embarrassed by that when you’re seconds away from stripping me completely naked in the flesh and my face was just between your lovely legs?”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because I want to know how much pent up tension I’m working with here, exactly. Standard first rule of mechanics.”

“I somehow doubt that,” she quips.

“You’re stalling, princess.”

“You’re an ass.”

“I can live with that,” he puts his hands behind his head. “Now spill.”

She exhales. “On the ride to get the fuel from your ship…”

He snaps his fingers. “I knew it! It was when we were digging up the ship, wasn’t it?”

“I amend my original comment. You’re actually an _insufferable_ ass.”

“Well I can’t help if my charm…” His expression immediately changes. Judy’s decided she’s had about enough of his teasing. She slides her hand up his thigh and over his cock, stroking him. “...fuck.”

Her other hand slips under the waistband of his shorts, tugging down. Once they’re off, Judy touches him again, hand wrapping around him, this time with nothing between their skin. “What were you saying?” she blinks up at him, facetious.

His mouth is open, looking for a clap back, but no words come out.

“That’s what I thought.”

She marvels at the velvety feel of him, fingers barely meeting around him. When her legs rub together, seemingly of their own accord, she feels her own slick.

She bends, pressing her lips to the tip. Don makes a choked sound, jaw tense.

Tucking a hand under her chin, he subtly lifts her mouth. “Doc…”

She nods, understanding.

She straddles him, leg on either side of his waist, but she stays up, their centers inches away and kisses him, slipping her hands into his hair.

His lips meet hers with intensity that sends her head reeling, one hand at her cheek, the other on her lower back, sliding lower.

She grinds down on him, deliberately on his thigh, missing his crotch, and he exhales through his teeth.

Wrapping her hand around him again, she aligns him to her center, teasing him through her wet folds. He shudders, then suddenly grips her wrist, expression serious.

“Woah… hey, I don’t have any protection with me.”

“IUD,” she answers, simply. “Sorry, forgot to tell you.”

He nods, looks up at her. She kisses him, gently, then pushes herself down on him, instantly feeling the sweet pleasure-pain of being stretched.

A sharp “ah” leaves her lips, and there’s a deep groan in his throat.

Judy shifts her weight, intent on pushing herself down further, when Don’s hands grip hard into underside of her thighs, stopping her, catching her weight.

Opening her eyes and working hard to focus them, she takes in Don’s tense jaw, his closed eyes, his hands clutching almost painfully into her thighs.

“Give me a sec, Doc,” he rasps, voice sonorous, and  _ oh _ did that do things to her.

Don felt her clench down on him, and any recovery he regained was lost.

His eyes open, and he whispers something, a plea, a praise, a proclamation. It’s all lost to him, he’s operating on instinct, whatever’s left after everything else is stipped away.

She nearly misses her name breathed from his lips it’s so quiet, but she’s so glad she didn’t because the reverence barely concealed in those two syllables makes her heart constrict. She knows instantaneously this is filed in her mind as precious.

After he’s gained composure, he thrusts up into her once, light, signaling her.

Her hands are in the hair at the back of his head, trying not to grab at the strands and failing and she drops her weight completely. She sags against him, overcome with sensation.

It’s okay. He’s got her. Don holds her against him, arms strong as he begins to thrust up into her.

She breathes his name out, lips on his ear, moving with him, down on him, taking all of him. His hands sprawl across her waist, guiding her, hips rolling up into her.

She leans her forehead against his, eyes barely open. Kissing against her jaw, he slides a hand between them, rubbing over her center, finding exactly the right place without hesitation. She soaking, getting herself all over his thigh and the place where their bodies meet again and again. 

She hisses his name through a sharp inhale, rhythm of her hips stuttering. Don scoots both of his hands under her ass, clutching her to his chest, and flips her under him in one way-too-smooth move.

Her breath hitches at the sudden change, then at the new angle he’s inside her.

He looks at her, under him. Strands of hair in her face, lips parted, eyes on him, looking at him like he’s the best thing the world could offer.

She did that. Judy Robinson looked at you like you were worth something, worth everything, and it makes you feel like you actually want to be the kind of person she calls out in you. Not that she won’t call you out on your shit, but he loved that too. Loved that strong stubbornness to her. Loved that even stronger tender caring that fueled her. He loves  _ her _ .

He  _ loves _ her.

The thought hits him so hard, so profoundly, he almost doubles over.

“You okay?” she asks, eyes concerned.

He nods, eyes still on hers, throat bobbing once, swallowing the things still too tender to say aloud.

His hand reaches down, traces her neck, cups her jaw. “You are so, so beautiful.”

She reaches up, kisses him, rolls her center up to meet his, calling a moan from his mouth.

Finally, he’s moving, pushing into her, powerful. He’s hitting  _ right there _ and her fingers try to find traction in the sheets, body jostling, both trying to break from the sensory overload and beg for more. 

He feels her clamp down on him again and his vision blurs. Slanting his mouth over hers again, he kisses her, hungry and a little unhinged. 

Her nails dig into his back, and he reaches down between them, finding that spot between her legs again, thumb pressing, playing, but purposeful.

His comforting scent all around her, weight on top of her, lips on hers, hands gripping her in adoration, the delicious stretch of him inside her, it all becomes so much. 

She breaks her lips from his, pressing her mouth into the crook of his neck to muffle herself as she tenses, body releasing in wave after wave, his name on her lips.

Hearing her say his name like that… it’s too much and not enough and he swears he’ll do anything to hear it again. 

“Judy...I’m... close. Where do you want me?”

She’s looking straight at him when she exhales, “Inside me.”

That trust,  _ my god _ , the trust she has in him. 

His hips falter, stutter, and he follows her, pouring himself in her.

Don rolls off her, onto his back, she instantly feels the pleasant ache between her thighs. She snuggles up to his side lays her her head on his chest, hearing the rapid beating of his heart, feeling his chest rising and falling. 

He’s so vulnerable like this. Not because he’s naked, because she has a feeling Don West is one-hundred percent used to that and not being an ounce less than very much in his element, confident and covered. So no, he’s choosing to be this way. He’s choosing to be open. For her. Don West, playful, teasing, cocky: he’s not hiding anything from her right now. 

She looks up at him, eyes so soft toward her, and she knows she can’t be stubborn enough to ignore the fact that she is very much in love with this man. 

Her heart swells with it, allowing it to wash over her as she nestles herself into him. 

She  _ loves _ him. 

But that’s still too tender to say aloud for now.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
